Upside Down
by Glorious Clio
Summary: Hermione goes to Australia, and her friends will not allow her to go alone.
1. Prologue

Title: Upside Down

Prompt: # 5 Rain Streaked Window for the LJ community "day by drabble"

Character(s)/Pairing(s): Hermione, Hermione/Ron, Harry/Ginny

Genre: Romance? Family? Hurt/Comfort?

Rating & Warnings: PG, spoilers through _Deathly Hallows_.

Summary: Hermione goes to Australia, and her friends will not allow her to go alone.

Authors Note: This started off as a short little one shot and then quickly spiraled out of control. So stay tuned for more chapters (so far, two more are planned). Hope you enjoy it! Thanks to musical penguins, a supremely awesome beta!

Disclaimer: Don't own it, never will.

o0O0o

There was rain on her window.

She was somewhere up in the air, much too high to be comfortable. Higher that she had ever been on a broom, or a dragon for that matter, and for much longer. It was a long way to Australia. It was why she chose it in the first place.

But Hermione did not know that it could rain even though she was above all the clouds. She wished she had a book about it. She had a book on the climate of Australia, hoping she would be prepared for what it had to offer. (She wasn't prepared for what it had to offer.)

The truth was she hadn't been able to find black and white answers in a book for awhile. The Tales of Beedle the Bard had served their purpose, but even though Dumbledore had left it for her to read, Hermione didn't find solutions in its pages. Only more questions.

And she doubted any book in any library would be able to help her. She was going to Australia, to find her parents to restore their memories, and to tell them the truth about her life for the first time since Cedric Diggory had died. Everything was backward in Australia anyway.

She glanced over at Ron; he smiled weakly back at her. They had buried far too many friends and relatives in the past few weeks. Attended too many funerals. So when Hermione had said she was going to Australia to fetch her parents, it came as no surprise to her when Harry and Ron decided they should come too. Ginny also demanded to come, telling them that this was not a dangerous mission, and there was no way they were going on holiday without her.

Not that this felt like a holiday.

Hermione looked out the window and watched as the rain fell up.


	2. Upside Down

Title: Upside Down

Summary: Hermione arrives in Australia and tracks down her parents relatively easily.

Authors Note: Chapter two! I hate to leave you hanging, but this is considerably longer than the prologue anyway. Beta'd by the lovely musical-penguins.

Disclaimer: Don't own it, never will.

o0O0o

The days following the last battle were difficult for everyone. McGonagall organized the survivors into groups. Some of the adults and affected family members took care of the bodies, making sure they were looked after until they were claimed and taken home. Most of the students were tasked with putting the school to rights. McGonagall found out which corridors they had fought in and sent them to other locations. This was especially good, since Hermione did not want to be anywhere near where Fred had died. Hermione carried out work in the library and the dungeons, Ginny was up in the towers; Neville helped Professor Sprout restore order in the Greenhouses. Harry was in the dormitories and Ron was in the classrooms. Meanwhile, the teachers had battled the fiendfyre (which had completely destroyed the Room of Requirement, but luckily had not spread further than that) and restored the Great Hall. The damage had been extensive.

Collapsing into a bed in Gryffindor tower (there were many empty beds to choose from in Ginny's dorm), Hermione's thoughts swirled around her future. What would she do now that the battle was finished?

Ron and Ginny left a few days later to help their family prepare for Fred's funeral. Hermione and Harry followed them to attend it.

Fred's was undeniably the hardest. Hermione didn't remember much except for the pressure of Ron's hand around hers and the pain in her chest and the need to vomit immediately after. Fred was so full of life, and no one could quite reconcile their memories of him with his new grave. Percy, usually so stoic, cried openly, which surprised Hermione.

She and Harry lingered at the Burrow at Mrs. Weasley's insistence.

Hermione appreciated Mrs. Weasley's mothering, but she was growing restless.

"I thought I might go home, and get some things," Hermione said one morning at breakfast a week after Fred's funeral.

"I'll go with you," Ron, Harry, and Ginny said all at the same time.

Hermione smiled. None of them liked to be alone anymore. They were always with each other these days.

"Alright," Mrs. Weasley said, giving them each another portion of sausages.

So they went.

Hermione wasn't sure what she was expecting when she apparated to her home in Edenbridge, but it wasn't what she found.

She found a mess, ripped apart by Death Eaters no doubt. She fell to her knees as she gazed at her childhood home. Hermione felt like the wind had been knocked out of her lungs. She could hear her own heartbeat in her ears. The grass tickled her ankles where her jeans had ridden up and her socks ridden down.

"Oh."

Ginny sat next to her and held her hand. "Hermione, I'm so sorry."

Ron grunted and began digging through the rubble. Harry, after glancing at Hermione to see if it was okay, went with Ron, searching for anything to bring back to her.

Hermione took a deep breath, then another, then another. When her blood had oxygenated again, she staggered to her feet and when to help the boys, Ginny bringing up the rear.

She found:

A fragment of her mother's wedding china.  
>A shell that her father had picked up as a boy.<br>A yellow ribbon Hermione used to tie in her hair.  
>A family photo in a cracked and broken frame.<p>

And not much else.

She took out the photo from the broken frame, wrapped the shell and the china fragment in a pillowcase she found, tied it with her ribbon and deposited in her beaded purse.

"What do you want to do next, 'Mione?" Ron asked her.

"Go to Australia," she replied. Wiping her parents' memories was something she hated doing, but after seeing the devastation before her, she would never again regret it.

They had more funerals to attend – Harry wanted to go to every single one, so they did as a unit, Hermione holding Ron's hand, Ginny holding Harry's.

The double funeral of Tonks and Lupin was nearly as difficult as Fred's. Tonk's hair was the drab brown color she hated. Hermione supposed her last morph faded when she did. They were buried together, and after Andromeda found Harry and deposited Teddy in his arms without ceremony. Harry juggled the two week old infant awkwardly, but Teddy didn't wriggle or squirm. He just stared up at Harry under a mop of turquoise hair, and Harry burst into tears. It was the first time he met his godson.

Colin Creevey's funeral was hard for Hermione too. He hadn't been her favorite person, but he should never have been in the battle in the first place. Mr. and Mrs. Creevey had hugged the four of them, thanking them for their own sacrifices for their sons. Dennis didn't say anything.

But soon the dead were buried and Hermione visited a Muggle travel agent her parents had used to take her to France. Mrs. Cooper smoothed everything out in a calm, cool, manner. She never once asked why Hermione was going, and mercifully, she didn't ask after Mr. and Mrs. Granger. Though Mrs. Cooper was quite busy, perhaps she didn't remember the Grangers. Hermione booked four round-trip tickets, she hoped she'd be buying two more plane tickets in Australia. Mrs. Cooper also booked a hotel room that slept four people. Hermione remembered sleeping rough in a tent that she kept in a beaded purse. A hotel room felt extravagant. Perhaps too extravagant. She booked it anyway.

"Travel agents," Ron muttered, looking at his plane ticket. "Barking mad."

Hermione snatched the ticket back and slid it back in the envelope with the other three. "You will also need a passport," she said briskly. "I've already filed those papers; they should arrive any day now." There was an office in Diagon Alley, _Conjured Credentials _which claimed to "create passports, birth certificates, anything you need to traverse the muggle world!" Harry's passport had already arrived. The process had been faster due to an existing muggle birth certificate.

"Hermione, you think of everything." Ginny settled in the grass next to them. They were lounging in the paddock that the Weasley's often used for Quidditch practice, out of view from the Burrow.

"Yours should be arriving around the same time as Ron's," said Hermione. "Where's Harry?"

"Getting us some butterbeers. Mum bought some, and she won't mind us drinking them so long as Harry is the one to fetch them."

"I still don't understand why we can't just take a Portkey," Ron commented as he rolled over in the grass, closer to Hermione.

"You dolt, it's because Mr. and Mrs. Granger can't use a Portkey coming back. We'd have to fly anyway." Ginny told him.

"And it's apparently cheaper to book a round trip ticket than just a one way," Hermione stated business-like.

"That _is _odd," Ginny said, leaning back on her elbows.

"Anyone for butterbeers?" Harry, hair crumpled and hands full, joined the conversation as he came into view.

"Cheers, love," Ginny thanked him as he passed them around and settled next to her. She gave him a quick peck on the cheek.

"Okay, enough you two. The gnomes are watching," Ron said, blushing but still trying to act cool.

Ginny rolled her eyes and popped the cap off her bottle. "Luna is coming over for dinner tomorrow."

"Is her father coming?" Hermione asked, worriedly. She didn't want to see him after he betrayed her, Harry and Ron to the Death Eaters. They had managed to escape, and logically Hermione knew he only betrayed them because he wanted to get Luna back, but Hermione also knew that logic wasn't a factor when it came to feelings.

"No, no, just Luna. I made sure," said Ginny. She had heard about nearly everything about their mission in the past weeks. She had cornered Harry and demanded he tell her, promising him that whatever she was imaging was probably worse. (It wasn't.)

"That's good. I like Luna. She's so…." Harry began.

Hermione nodded in agreement to what was being unsaid… _brave, calm, practical_….

"Luna," Ginny completed the thought.

They laid there in the grass under the sunshine and Hermione contemplated the meaning of strength and friendship.

o0O0o

The day arrived for them to leave the Burrow and fetch her parents. They apparated to Heathrow airport. Hermione abandoned the beaded bag, and instead expanded everyone's rucksacks to pack as they saw fit (after reminding them it would be winter in Austrialia).

She confounded the security muggles and tucked her wand back up her sleeve feeling slightly guilty as she did so, but their luggage would arouse too much suspicion otherwise. Things were going very smoothly. After the last year, even flying in a muggle airplane was better than some of the things they'd experiences, even if the seats were too small and the food lousy.

And it took too long.

Much too long.

"Why didn't we take a Portkey again?" Ron asked as a child somewhere behind them began screaming.

Hermione leaned back against the seat. "I don't remember."

Ron chuckled. "What are you reading?"

"Well, I was reading about the climate in Australia, but I switched while you were napping." She held the book she was holding up so he could see the title.

"_Memoris; Useful spells and tricks to restore the memory,"_ Ron read aloud. "Ah. Helpful?"

Hermione shrugged. "There's an incantation, but apparently it's not foolproof. They suggest things to trigger memories, like familiar smells and sounds. It all sounds so complicated. The _brain _is so complicated! In the muggle world, there's no guarantee that memories return if they're lost, sometimes they return all by themselves, and now I can't really find a perfect spell to undo what I've done…."

"Hermione, your parents will remember you."

"You can't know that," she whispered. She desperately tried to control the tears that threatened to roll down her face.

Ron laced her fingers in with his own. "I can."

"What if they do remember, and they are angry? I haven't been completely upfront with them since Cedric Diggory died. They don't know… the darker side."

"Well, now's your chance to tell them, I guess," Ron said.

Hermione smiled.

As dull as airplane travel was, takeoffs and landings were certainly nerve-wracking. Hermione clenched the armrests and she saw Ron go white under his freckles. She had no idea how Harry and Ginny were faring in the row behind them.

As soon as the little seatbelt sign _ding_-ed off, the four of them hauled themselves to their feet… but they should have sat back down again. They had to wait for all the passengers in front of them to collect their baggage and file out. It seemed to take years as they lounged over their seats, talking about the flight.

"I've had worse," smiled Harry, brushing his hair out of his eyes.

"I should say," Ginny agreed.

"Cursed broomstick," Ron started.

"Hippogriff," said Hermione.

"Threstrals," Ginny added.

"Dragon," Harry, Ron, and Hermione said together. Some sleepy passengers glared at the four of them.

Ginny shot them a winning smile, as if to say, "_There's no such things as dragons; you're only dreaming this, sillies."_

Eventually, the four of them shuffled off the plane, giddy from lack of sleep and nerves and relief that the plane had landed like it was supposed to.

But then there were Australian customs, which were equally frustrating. They asked insane questions like "Have you left your bags alone for any period of time?" and then scraped all the mud off of their shoes.

"Camping enthusiasts?" a guard asked Hermione as she stood there in her socks.

"Uh, yes," she said. "Something like that."

They then left the airport, paid for a cab which sped them through the streets of Sydney (which they were too tired to take notice of) and took them to their hotel room. They collapsed into sleep, the girls in one bed, the boys in the other.


	3. RightSide Up

Title: Upside Down  
>Summary: Tracking down her parents was the easy bit. Now, for the hard part...<br>Authors Note: Chapter three! And now complete. I hope you enjoy it! Beta'd by the lovely musical-penguins.  
>Disclaimer: Don't own it, never will.<p>

o0O0o

The next morning, Hermione woke up groggily as Ginny got out of bed.

"Sorry, did I wake you?" Ginny whispered.

"No, s'alright," Hermione slurred.

"I was just going to take a shower."

Hermione nodded and yawned. Ginny grinned at her, picked up her sunny yellow bag and slipped into the bathroom.

Hermione yawned again and sat up. She plumped up the pillows to lean on and pulled out a telephone book from the bedside table.

W… Wi… Wil… there were more Wil's than she thought. All the better. Wilkins, W. 73 Campbell Street, Sydney, NSW 2041.

Map. She needed her map. Hermione glanced at the boys' bed to discover them waking up. Ron was squinting at her as Harry sat up and pushed on his glasses.

"Morning," she greeted them. She felt truly rested after last night's sleep, and happier that she knew what she hoped would the address of Wendell and Monica Wilkins. She sat up and began rummaging through her black schoolbag for the map of Sydney (which of course was at the bottom).

"So what's the plan?" Harry asked her.

"I hope the plan includes 'breakfast,'" Ron said. "Is Ginny in the shower?"

"Yes," Hermione said absently as she unfolded the map. It was bigger than she expected.

Ron padded to the bathroom and knocked on the door.

"Just a minute, Ron!" Ginny called out.

"Hurry up!"

_Oh, the bickering_, Hermione thought_. Just like at the Burrow_. Hermione had no siblings of her own, and somehow, the squabbling charmed her instead of annoyed her.

"Want any help, Hermione?" Harry asked as he pulled on a clean t-shirt.

"73 Campbell Street, Sydney, NSW," she said, rustling the map. Harry joined her on the bed, sprawling out to look for street names.

After a few moments of bickering from the Weasly siblings, Hermione announced, "Found it!" She took a biro from the drawer in the bedside table and circled the block.

"What is that?" Ron demanded.

"What is what?" Hermione looked up, confused.

"In your hand!"

"A biro?"

"Okay, that didn't really answer my question," Ron said.

"It's a muggle tool for writing. There's ink inside of it."

"What's wrong with a quill?"

"Nothing, only I didn't feel like digging one out of my bag, and this one was right next to the phone." Hermione spoke slowly, as if explaining to a three year old that there was nothing under the bed to scare him.

"Ron, relax," Harry said. Ginny chose that instant to come out of the bathroom, her hair wrapped up in a towel and no make-up on her face, but dressed for the day. Harry blushed.

Ron sighed, "Finally," and strode into the bathroom.

"You look nice," Harry complimented Ginny.

It was her turn to flush. "Thanks."

Eventually, everyone got a turn in the bathroom, and the four were ready for what the day had in store for them.

"Do you know that newborn babies see the world upside down?" Hermione mused at breakfast as she surveyed their surroundings. They had just popped into a shop for some juice and pastries and were now picnicking at a park near their hotel.

"Why do you know that, Hermione?" Ron asked rhetorically before he slurped some juice.

She shrugged. "I guess I feel like that. Seeing the world upside down, I mean. And my parents will probably be feeling the same sensation. How do you tell someone who thinks you're a complete stranger 'I wiped your memories, you're really my parents'?"

"I wiped your memories, you're really my parents?" Ron tried.

"Thanks. Helpful." Hermione knew she was snapping and that Ron didn't deserve it, but at the moment, she didn't much care.

"I'm sure the right words will come," Ginny said soothingly.

"Yeah, and it's not like you'll be alone. We'll come in with you if you want, or we can wait outside," Harry offered. "Either way, we'll be nearby."

o0O0o

Destination  
>Determination<br>Deliberation

The three D's of Apparition.

Destination: 73 Campbell Street, Sydney, NSW.

That left Determination and Deliberation.

She was about to go destroy the fake lives of Wendell and Monica Wilkins. Was that… ethical? To give two people a new life, and then take it away? Was it ethical to give them a new life without their permission? She had made them forget so much, she had made them think they were renting their house in Edenbridge, make them forget her room, made them forget everything, leave everything (except their profession. Hermione knew her parents were good dentists, so she left them a small sliver of their previous identities). It had worked much better than she had expected it to.

Her friends had fallen silent as they finished their breakfasts. Hermione pushed her juice bottle away from her. It was better than anything she could have made herself, but sugary fruit juice was not what she needed right now. Some Felix Felicis wouldn't have gone amiss, however.

She glanced at Harry, he was collecting everyone's rubbish, Hermione assumed he was going to throw it away for them in the nearby bins. He smiled at her as he took her napkin. _Determination._ No one was more determined than Harry Potter.

_And deliberation. Family,_ she thought, looking at Ron and Ginny. Family was more important than anything. She needed these three, to get through the next few days, weeks, months… or years.

Harry came back to them, brushing his hands.

Hermione jumped up. "Ready?"

Ron and Ginny stood up next to her. Hermione briefly wondered if four was a magic number. Stronger than three. Maybe even stronger than seven. After all, weren't there four Hogwarts founders?

A chorus of "Ready!" answered her.

Ginny took Harry's arm (she had not yet passed her Apparition test).

"Destination: 73 Campbell Street, Sydney, NSW," she said with a small grin. All four turned on the spot.

Hermione felt her insides constrict and then expand as she arrived at Wendell and Monica Wilkins' street.

It was a long street, dotted with well-kept homes. She quickly spotted the brass 7 and 3 that labeled the Wilkins' house.

"Do you want us to come in with you?" Ginny asked.

"Um, no," said Hermione. "Thanks, though."

"Are you sure?" Harry offered.

"Yeah."

Ron said nothing, but he squeezed her hand before she marched down the street, up the concrete walk to the house and rapped on the door.

After a few heartbeats, the door was opened by a woman who was the same height as Hermione. _Mum,_ Hermione instantly labeled the woman. _Monica_, she reminded herself.

Before either of them could say anything, a giant, ginger cat launched itself out of the door.

"Crookshanks!" cried Mrs. Wilkins, clearly fearful for Hermione's life. "I'm so sorry, he-" she began, but then noticed that Hermione had picked up the cat and was cradling him. Crookshanks purred contently.

"That's odd," Mrs. Wilkins said. "Usually he spits and claws at everyone he meets."

"He's just protective," said Hermione. She felt her friends' eyes on her back, even though she knew they had the good sense to duck out of sight. Swallowing a lump in her throat, she spoke up, "My name is Hermione Granger, and I had a few questions for you. I'm from the British embassy." She lied easily, a habit she hoped she'd break in the next five minutes. "And I just wanted to see how you were settling in here."

"Oh, I… I guess that would be alright," Monica Wilkins said. She turned her head and called "Wendell, dear, we have company!" She turned back to look at Hermione. "Come on in… Ms… Granger, was it?"

"Yes, thank you."

"I can take Crookshanks off your hands."

Crookshanks turned his head towards Monica Wilkins and seemed to narrow his eyes.

Hermione smiled. "That's fine, I can hold him."

"If you like," said Mrs. Wilkins. She led Hermione into the lounge, where she sat on a sofa, cuddling her cat. "Tea?" Monica offered.

"Yes, please," Hermione accepted. "Can I help?"

"Oh, no, I can manage." Monica Wilkins slipped back into her kitchen.

"Hello, Crookshanks," Hermione whispered to her cat. "Thanks for keeping an eye on them."

As if in response, he lifted his head and rubbed it under her chin. Hermione closed her eyes and cuddled him a bit tighter. After a moment, she heard her dad, _Wendell_ shuffle down the corridor. Hermione released her cat, who didn't stray far. Crookshanks settled right next to her.

"Hello," said Mr. Wilkins, stepping into the room.

Hermione stood to shake his hand. "Hello, I am Hermione Granger, from the Embassy. I just had a few questions for you and Mrs. Wilkins."

"This is rather unprecedented. For a Saturday morning, I mean. And you're a bit young – are you a student?"

"Yes. And yes. Study abroad, er, diplomacy."

"Jolly good."

They sat down, staring at each other. Hermione had never felt so awkward around her father. Although, he wasn't exactly himself right now.

"Hermione, you said? Such an old name. I've always liked it."

Hermione smiled. She said, "Thank you," but it was drowned out by her mother, _Monica_, bustling in with the tea tray.

"Everyone comfortable?"

Hermione added two sugars and a splash of milk to her tea, her mother's favorite Earl Gray. "Yes thank you."

"Shall we begin? Only we have theater tickets for later," Mrs. Wilkins said.

"Oh, yes," said Hermione. She took a sip of her tea and set it down again. The cup rattled gently against the saucer. She then reached into her pocket to pull a few trinkets out.

A fragment of her mother's wedding china.  
>A shell that her father had picked up as a boy.<br>A yellow ribbon Hermione used to tie in her hair.  
>A family photo in a cracked and broken frame.<p>

"I'm sorry, what is this?" Wendell Wilkins said, confused and suddenly upset at seeing the photograph.

"Wendell, that looks… like us, and that little girl…" Monica looked sharply at Hermione. "What is this? What business do you have here?"

"I don't believe she's from the Embassy," Wendell said softly.

Hermione had been racking her brain for a way to explain to them, not wanting to resort to an incantation she wasn't sure would work. But she didn't know what to do. She wasn't used to her parents getting upset with her. She always followed their rules, and she had always brought home good marks. Inexplicably, Ron popped into her head. "I wiped your memories, you're really my parents," Hermione whispered, tears threatened to flood her face. Crookshanks mewed comfortingly.

"What rubbish," Monica declared.

"We don't have any children!" Wendell got to his feet. So did Monica.

Crookshanks climbed back on Hermione's lap and hissed at her parents.

"No, Crookshanks," Hermione scolded him lightly. "It's not their fault."

Monica snatched Crookshanks from Hermione's lap. "Leave him alone." Crookshanks scratched Monica's arm, and she dropped him. "Ouch! Crookshanks!" He ran over and sat next to Hermione's feet, as if guarding her.

"You should go," said Wendell.

Hermione got to her feet, and in one smooth movement (the last few months giving her reflexes an edge), pulled her wand from her sleeve and chanted, "_memoria tenere!"_ And orange mist flowed slowly from her wand and enveloped her parents.

Her father had just enough time to shout, "What the Hell?" before both her parents sputtered, coughed, and passed out on the floor.

"Shit," Hermione muttered, then started crying. This was much worse than attacking Snape in the Shrieking Shack in third year. She pulled a handkerchief out of her other pocket and went to the door. Crookshanks followed her like a ginger shadow.

She saw Ron, Harry, and Ginny racing stones in the gutter. They looked up when they heard the door open, and seeing Hermione crying on the threshold, they hurried towards her.

Ron caught her in a tight hug, and Harry and Ginny rushed in to see what happened, nearly tripping over an over-excited Crookshanks.

Her parents were lying on the rug in the lounge, the orange mist was disappearing.

"What happened?" Ron whispered in her ear.

"I… muttered an incantation from the book, orange smoke came out of my wand, and they just passed out from it."

He rubbed her back soothingly.

"They had theater tickets for later," Hermione snuffled.

"Shh," was Ron's reply.

Ginny and Harry came back to the entryway. Harry shut the front door.

"They're alright, Hermione, just stunned. They should come to, soon enough," Ginny said practically.

Hermione fidgeted in Ron's embrace and he loosened his grip. She wiped her eyes. "Thanks, Ginny."

The four of them went back into the lounge. There wasn't much Hermione felt she could do for them. She levitated her mother to the couch, then plumped a pillow under her father's head. At least, she hoped when they awoke they'd be her mother and father again. Crookshanks settled next to her father's head, standing guard again. Shaking, she piled the tea things on the tray and took them through to the kitchen. Ron, Harry, and Ginny followed her like a couple of lost souls as Hermione did the washing up, anxious to keep her hands busy. After drying the teapot, the four sat down to the kitchen table and waited. And waited. And waited.

When they did finally hear stirrings from the lounge an hour later, Hermione seemed to jump about three feet in the air. She stood and waited a moment, listening.

After a few seconds, there came a soft, tentative… "Hermione?" from the woman who had been Monica Wilkins.

Hermione always came when called. Something must have worked. She wondered if it was because she was the one who altered their memories in the first place. Hermione knew she was a good witch, but to place and remove a memory charm so large…. Well, time would tell how much they remembered of either life.

Her mother lay on the couch, blinking in disbelief and confusion. "What… would you get me a cup of water?"

She conjured a cup and filled it. Stepping carefully over the dozing figure of her father, and her over-protective cat, she passed her mother the glass.

"Thank you," her mother sat up and took it. "I… what happened?" she asked when the glass was empty.

Tears were leaking from Hermione's face again. "Can we wait until Dad's awake? I don't want to tell it twice."

"Well, prod him then," she said, rubbing her temples. "On second thought, will you go make us some tea? My head is killing me."

"Sure, Mum." Hermione got up and went back to the kitchen.

"So?" Ron asked, voicing everything in that one word.

Hermione gave them a tearful smile, unable to speak about what might (or might not) have happened. She set about making tea, like her mother taught her; heating the water in the kettle, setting out cups, warming the pot, pouring milk and sugar, steeping the tea for so many minutes…. Ron pulled out a game of exploding snap, Harry cast a silencing charm around them, and the three set about making a house of cards.

Hermione smiled at them again, rummaging through the cupboards, filling a pretty plate she found with biscuits and giving her friends the rest. Once the tray was prepared, she brought it out to the lounge (its second trip in one day) to find her father winking himself awake.

"Hermione?"

"Hi, Dad," she said shyly.

"What happened?" He pulled himself up and sat on the couch. Hermione placed the tray on the low coffee table and settled in between her parents.

"Tea?"

They went through four pots of tea as Hermione explained everything that had happened since coming home after her fourth year. They seemed shocked at her deception, and Hermione did her best to explain, but it took a very long time to iron everything out.

"Hermione…" her mother breathed when the story was told.

"I… how?" her father stuttered.

"And in the interest of full disclosure the house in Edenbridge has been destroyed," Hermione spit out quickly.

"By those… 'Death Eater' chaps?" Mr. Granger asked.

"Yes."

"Well, I am shocked!" her mother stated. "Hermione, you've lied to us, exiled us, without our consent might I add, and went into battle!"

Hermione felt tears threaten again, but stood her ground hoping to make her parents understand. "And you've never made a decision you thought would benefit me without my knowledge?"

Mrs. Granger sighed slowly. She took Hermione's hand in hers. "I'm sorry you had to go through that alone."

"I wasn't alone," Hermione said calmly. "Harry and Ron were by my side the whole time. Still are, actually, and Ginny too."

"Of that, I am glad," her father said.

Her mother clutched Hermione's hand a bit tighter. "So what now?"

"Well," Hermione said hesitantly. She didn't have much _planned_. She had hoped she would survive after Voldemort died, but hadn't really thought about the future beyond that. "I think I might… finish up my education. Take my N.E.W.T.s…."

Her father nodded. "Education is very important."

"I'm more curious to see what you two will do," Hermione said. "I mean, you _could_ stay here…."

"Oh, we'll come back to England," her mother said.

"Our life here was a dream, wasn't it?" Mr. Granger argued. "Nothing here is real to us. It's an illusion. You created it all, but we'd rather be with the creator in question."

Hermione smiled. There were still things to discuss (mainly, where they would live) but they'd figure it out as they went along.

And in that moment, in a house she didn't recognize, on the other side of the planet, with her friends playing exploding snap in the kitchen, and her parents holding her hands… Hermione felt her world go right-side-up again.


End file.
